Habits
by Misobel
Summary: (complete) 'Along with war came sacrifices. It was all for the better good, she told herself. ' (Ginny&Harry one-shot)


**Disclaimer:**

I don't own it! Pfft.

**Authors Notes:**

I'm quite proud of this. Near the end I began roleplaying with someone, so it all got kind of messed up, but I still like it. 

**Habits**

By Lady Coia

She slid out of bed, trying to be as quiet as possible in the old house. She had her own room, which made it easier. But most people did in this house. The ones they used to share with had passed on to another life. 

She had gotten her clothes ready before she went to bed. They sat neatly on a chair by the door. She put them on, like most people would. Except she moved slowly and carefully, her purpose in mind. 

A pair of shoes sat underneath the window. She pulled those on, too. After all, it was never fun to walk across ground barefoot, especially out in the country. At least that is what she thought.

She was lucky her window was low to the ground. She was also lucky that it opened easily. During the war it had been sealed shut, trapping her inside. Except it was said to be to keep others out. She knew otherwise, though. After all, no one smart climbs through a window with a pair of shoes underneath. 

Landing softly on the ground outside, she glanced around. The cool night air was refreshing to breathe in. It had rained the previous day, leaving the nice clean smell that she so obviously loved. 

After standing outside the window for a few moments, she quietly went on her way, towards the forest across the field from the house. At the edge she leaned down and whispered a single word, emitting a spell from her wand. A rock transfigured into a sheet of parchment with a letter on it. 

She picked it up, and grasped it in her hand, careful not to rip the delicate paper. Anything was delicate anymore. The war had affected everything. And she had become careful throughout it, too. She had wanted to keep her life when she learned the habit.

She made barely a sound as she walked softly across the forest floor, the canopy of leaves above her blocking her view of the stars. She needed no light, though. The moon shone brightly now, seeming to rejoice that the clouds had gone before it came.

Be quiet. Yet another thing she had learned. Many lessons came along with wars.

She didn't walk for long before she came to a clearing in the trees, hidden from anybody who had not been there before. After all, the dead needed their privacy. 

She pushed open the metal gate that was as high as her waist open. It made barely a sound. Creaks in gates were not meant in this world. 

There were more stone markers in the graveyard than any of them would have liked. But they had all grown to accept it. Along with war came sacrifices. It was all for the better good, she told herself. 

Each grave she passed brought some memory of some person. 

Sirius Black. No, he had not died after passing through the veil. He had come back a year later, only to fall to his death during the great battle. 

George Weasley. One piece of the infamous Weasley twins was gone forever; the other piece changed forever.

Bill Weasley. Gone were the days of his curse breaking and rebellion to Molly's wishes.

Arthur Weasley. He had perished mysteriously, only to have a wizard find his body a week later. No one knows what happened to him, except that he had died. 

Nymphadora Tonks. Her ability to change appearance had not helped her life, but had instead helped others. 

There were others of the Order, of course. Minerva McGonagall, Seamus Finnigan, Parvati Patil and Luna Lovegood among them. Many had died. Those who hadn't were changed. For the better or worse no one would say. 

Finally she came to the one she came for. The others did not matter at that moment. Instead just this one did. The one she had thought she would love forever. The one she probably still would, even after his death. It's hard to forget a person like that. The true Gryffindor…

"I brought you a letter. I'm not sure if you can read it, so I'll just read it for you," she sat down on the ground, still slightly muddy from the rain. She didn't care, though. Nothing else mattered at the moment. The mud she was sitting on, the crisp air around her, or the slight smell of rain in that air. She let her senses dull to the rest of the world. A person could have sneaked up on her quite easily. 

Except there was no one that would do so. They had all passed on. Changed.

And so she read the letter. 

"I don't really know why I am writing this," it said, "Or exactly what I will write in it. I just felt that a letter would work. Words spoken aloud can be forgotten, but if they are written down in front of you, on a frail piece of parchment, it is hard to forget them. You can read a letter over and over, when you can't hear spoken words over and over. 

"It was hard for me to visit at first. I think you know that. You always knew what I felt. You were like that… nearly perfect, in my mind. Some might have called you crazy, but I knew otherwise. We all did. We, meaning all the people that loved you. I hope you loved us all back. I know you loved me. You told me so. I remember. 

"I don't remember a lot of things anymore. I put it all away in safe storage in my mind. Some things aren't meant to be remembered, I don't think. They are passing feelings that may be worth so much then, but aren't now. 

"I hope our love wasn't one of those. I want to remember that. Just some of the memories that go along with it, I am sorry to say, I don't.

"It's odd to think that everything was so simple… and how it can all change within a moment. Nothing is ever perfect, I've learned. But some things come so close to it, that it amazes me when I think back on them.

"I can't say much. I don't ever say much anymore. Thoughts are bottled up, and crying is left to night. But don't think this is all because of you. Please know that it isn't. 

"I still love you. And I always will."

She set the paper down in front of the gravestone. She reached behind her neck and took unclasped the gold chain necklace around her neck. At the bottom was a very small, glass vial. Inside was a dark green dust-like substance.

"I'm leaving you this. I hope you will keep it. It's Fairy Dust, you know. It can help for a lot. Charlie gave it to me. I want you to have it. He wouldn't mind. I know that."

She let the chain pile in front of the gravestone, before dropping the container of Fairy Dust on top, careful not to break it. 

She quietly stood up, and then turned around, walking past each headstone she had passed initially on her way back out the gate and towards the house once again. Careful and quietly she went, of course. Two habits that would never break, even if she ever bothered to try. 

That night she left the same way to the graveyard, visiting at the exact same time she always did. The parchment and the necklace were gone. This made her smile a little, something she did not often do.

She talked once again to the empty air, just as she did every night. 

Because habits are hard to change.

And love is even harder to leave behind.

_Harry Potter_

_1980 - 1998_


End file.
